


Ace Akihito Extras

by RedIce



Series: Being Asexual in a Yaoi Novel [4]
Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series
Genre: Age Play, Age Regression/De-Aging, Angst, Fluff, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Non-Sexual Age Play, Other, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape/Non-con Elements, Tragedy, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-13 19:42:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 5,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28783611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedIce/pseuds/RedIce
Summary: Extras of Asexual Akihito
Relationships: Asami Ryuichi & Takaba Akihito
Series: Being Asexual in a Yaoi Novel [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1828075
Comments: 17
Kudos: 33





	1. Collar

Asami downs the rest of his whiskey. He’s been up for seventy-nine hours now. 

The businessman brushes the dried, flaking blood off his suit. “Kirishima. Make sure it’s cleaned up.”

“Yes, boss.” Kirishima bows, not even blinking at the sight of a headless and arm-less body tied to a metal chair in the middle of the cargo shipment. The up and coming Chinese crime family head chose a bad day to cross Asami. Inwardly, Kirishima sighs. Cleaning up gorey messes is not the kind of duty he enjoys, but he will do it nevertheless. His loyalty extends far beyond taking out the trash on bad days. 

They never really learn, do they. Eventually, Asami will need to do this again: make a show of a trespasser. 

“I will confirm with FeiLong that Yantsui has been killed.” Kirishima notes that he will have to placate FeiLong on why his long-dead brother was alive and now deceased by Asami. What a clusterfuck.

Asami nods, walking briskly out the metal cargo shipment and into the brisk Tokyo night air. The businessman reaches for his pocket but then thinks better of it. 

He quit smoking for Akihito. Even if Akihito doesn’t awaken, it’s no reason to slip into old habits. Akihito will smell the nicotine on him when he wakes. 

Instead, he goes for his inner jacket pocket. The slim metal band he takes out is warm from his body heat. It’s spotless, a sharp contrast from the deep red it was covered in when he slipped it into his sleeve back in that ship. If only Mikhail had taken better care of his ward and been more attentive, then Akihito could have been spared so much pain. Not that there wasn’t a lurking, insidious kind of pain waiting for him in Mikhail’s arms. Asami recognizes a dog’s shock collar when he sees it.

But Asami knows that Mikhail played the long game. Who else would strike when the rewards were high and the risks low? The Russian let his uncle kidnap Akihito away to Chernobyl, as per FeiLong’s deal. An exchange is an exchange. Yuri’s life for Akihito’s. And in the end, it all ended perfectly, wrapped in a neat little bow. 

Asami thinks back to that torture room, with an angel so innocent and suffering so beautifully the Sion owner couldn’t help but covert it. 

Covert him. Akihito. Akihito didn’t understand why people hurt one another, why people fight. His big, blue eyes glimmer like the ocean at sunset. His pure, white wings were so bright, the brightest thing in the room full of bloodied, shadowed men, even when there was no light. Especially when there was no light. 

He’s so innocent. And Asami hated watching that innocence be taken away, be ripped to shreds like a cheap tissue, disposable and replaceable. Each of Akihito’s confused and pained screams wormed something soft but hard inside his heart. For the first time in a long time, he felt something other than himself.

Chernobyl will die. He will make sure of it. 

He understands, now, why FeiLong treated Akihito as a little boy on the casino cruise. Because Akihito is a little boy, so young and sinless, pure beyond what people could achieve. Once the best pediatrician in Japan had a check-up with the boy, it was confirmed. Akihito was just over a year old, still learning how to fly and how the world works. 

But Akihito never needed to learn how to love. The boy loves like the earth itself, naturally and bright and ever-giving. The boy loves so easily, guilelessly. 

And because Asami was unsure of himself, too cautious to not infect his blackness into Akihito, he let Akihito almost die. He let Akihito slip deep down darkness too much for such a little soul to handle, and didn’t even notice until Akihito hacked his own wings off. 

He’s a terrible daddy. And yet, a daddy he is, and must be. 

“Kirishima. Detour to the penthouse.”

It’s time to visit Akihito. Of course, he first has to wash the blood off. The boy is just too perceptive, his nose too sharp. Asami doesn’t mind washing before coming to Akihito. The boy had too much blood so far in his little, young life. He’ll know in an instant if there’s blood on Asami and shy away. 

If Akihito wakes during this hospital visit, of course.

Asami slips the broken metal collar back into his pocket.


	2. Mommy, Daddy, and Aki-chan's First Meeting

“FeiLong LaoBan. The Japanese has been taken in the eastern wing, room five.” Yoh dutifully reports. 

FeiLong puts down his long metal pipe. “How is his condition?”

“He was awake for half an hour, Fei LaoBan. He has thrown up three times. His fever is going down.”

“Good, good.” FeiLong indolently sprawls on an opulent fainting couch that is almost obscured by the copious opium smoke. 

It’s been days, and the curiously blond Japanese youth has shown no sign of getting better from the chloroform overdose. His men reported that they had administered less than the usual dose, in fact, since the boy was out like a light after a scant few seconds, not the usual five minutes or more. The days have passed anxiously, each day getting FeiLong no closer to discovering the location of that CD. Four men have died for it. More will, if things don’t go FeiLong’s way. 

He already took the liberty of sending his men to search Tabaka’s bare apartment, but Asami’s men have gotten there before him. Foiled, again, by that backstabbing Japanese “businessman”. 

The report on Takaba was boring. It’s so ordinarily normal. Civilian. Nothing in it points to a mafia connection. So how did this no-name brat get damning evidence of Asami’s back dealings? It’s suspicious, no matter what angle FeiLong looks at it. The blond’s either a spy or a whore, and none of those options bodes well for Takaba’s future. 

“From here on out, I don’t want anyone using drugs on him. We can’t risk another bad drug reaction on a source that has such…  _ vital  _ information, can we?”

“No, Fei LaoBan.”

“Good. And anything from Asami yet?”

Yoh shakes his head. For a moment, FeiLong’s expression tightens. 

“Well. We’ll hear from him soon, once this little songbird starts singing. And do keep the bird caged, Yoh.”


	3. Pillow Tears

Dead on his feet, Suzuki drags himself step by step to Akihito’s room. It’s night, and the mansion is discreetly bustling, as it is at all times of day and night. He’s flaking dried blood off his suit. At least none of it is his, this time. Lucky, considering the amount of sabotage Yuri does. 

He’s not supposed to see Akihito. Mikhail ordered him to keep an eye on uncle Yura at all times, suspicious of the scarred man. Mikhail was right, of course. Old uncle Yura has been selling Bratva secrets to Chernobyl. 

But he needs to see Aki-chan. He isn’t supposed to talk to the boy, or see him, or interact with him. Suzuki is supposed to go on raids with one eye on his scope and another on Yuri, to tail the man at every hour of the day, to stay back and do nothing when Yuri forces Akihito to heal corrupt bratva without a regard to the boy.

His little Aki-chan. He needs to see Aki-chan, if it’s only for a moment. To reassure that the boy is well, and being taken care of. The little guy is pregnant, and it’s like nobody cares. Mikhail doesn’t even notice when Akihito doesn’t eat for days sometimes, too nauseous. 

The last time Suzuki held Akihito, he felt the ridges of the boy’s spine, hard and prominent, like he’s one of those starved pregnant street dogs, ribs stark and body more bone than fur. 

Mikhail calls himself Aki-chan’s daddy, but if Suzuki has any say in it, Mikhail will not be a daddy at all. 

Oh, yes. Shower first. He has to get all this blood off him. 

He almost falls asleep a few times under the blessedly hot water. When he finally comes out, he’s clumsy and slick, but he manages to tug on his clothes and stagger to Akihito’s wing. Fuck. Who made Russia so cold? All he wants to do is to go back to China, to stop being a spy for FeiLong and just serve as a regular bodyguard. But what does he get? An assignment to Russia, to gain Mikhail’s loyalty, to a land where everyone looks at him suspiciously and he has the privilege of freezing his ass off. 

Concentrate, Suzuki. Akihito. Akihito sleeps with Mikhail. Suzuki will have to be quiet. And if Mikhail awakens, Misha will understand. Suzuki will just peek his head in for a second. Just a second.

Suzuki cracks the door open. The light falls on Akihito’s face. The little guy is beautiful, all chiaroscuro and soft. Like a dream, like how heaven is in his dreams. 

Just a second.

The bodyguard lightly toes off his steel-toed boots and approaches slowly, careful as he can be. Oh, Aki-chan. At that moment, Suzuki knows that he will gladly die for this little angel. So innocent, so kind, even when surrounded by cruelty and tossed around from one crime lord to another. Yes, he knows about Asami, and how the man must have sent Akihito to die, thrown away like an old whore. It’s all FeiLong talks about. 

But now that Suzuki is with Akihito, he understands the boy’s magnetism, his undeniable charm. The boy is helpless and innocent and so, so beautiful. Yet untouched by the evils of men. Naive, even when he pretends to not be and tries to act like a big boy. But the mask is ill-fitting, and everyone knows that Akihito is just a little boy, fallen and confused and lost, trying to fit in. 

Suzuki slips under the covers slowly and gently, to not rouse the two. One of his feet accidentally finds Akihito’s warm stomach, and the temperature shock wakes the boy up. 

The blond takes Suzuki’s cold extremities to press on his warm body, transferring heat. It’s like a dream, and the warmth lulls Suzuki to sleep so fast he’s dizzy. He has to shake himself awake so that he will have this memory. This is a precious moment. He doesn’t want to miss this. His heart is full, pounding, and so warm. He doesn’t dare move, instead letting himself be manhandled by little Aki-chan so the boy can transfer more warmth into his freezing body. 

Suzuki’s been so cold and distant to Akihito, but the boy still loves so freely. Oh, Aki-chan. Is he alright? After Yuri nearly strangled him, the boy must be scared and Suzuki wanted to burst out and take the little blond into his open arms right then and there, secrecy be damned. 

Oh, Aki-chan-

Suzuki sleeps. He doesn’t see the tears on Akihito’s pillow.


	4. Meeting New Friends

“Yuta, who do you think is going to be the VIP client?” Haruto unlaces his combat boots in the locker room, sweaty and hot from the penthouse shootout simulation. It’s the fifth of many simulations they’ve done this week. Over the months, Haruto notices fewer and fewer faces showing up. Now, there are only about a dozen left who were not eliminated. “Asami-sama seems to be sparing no precautions on this one.”

“My guess is as good as yours. Probably some hot shot’s spoiled daughter. Babysitting duty. Why else would everyone need to go through childcare screening?” Haruto tiredly replies, taking off the visor. The bulletproof plastic was fogged up. 

Sometimes, Haruto wonders why Yuta decided to become a bodyguard for Asami-sama, the richest and most desired bachelor slash business tycoon in Japan. But Yuta is Haruto’s childhood best friend, and so stick with Yuta he will. Even through this hellish training. 

“Maybe it’s Asami’s own daughter. Could it be that he has a secret wife and kid?”

“Beats me. Well, with all those one-night stands-”

“Mn hm.” Sakura clears her throat. As the sole female that passed through the rigorous physical and mental requirements of Souh’s security force, she’s a woman who knows how to keep every recruit in this training level under her thumb. “If Kirishima-sama hears you speculating on Asami-sama’s private life, it’s your own hides you need to save.”

“Yes, Sakura-hime.” Haruto and Yuta chorus, gulping. 

Sakura takes her protective chest armour off, the inside damp with sweat. She frees her sweaty, messy hair and reties it. “But. Just between us, I assume the protection detail is a young child. A very young child, but old enough to pick who to be their “friends”. If you get what I mean.” She divulges with a wink. 

The rest of the men in the locker room make exhausted but interested noises. “Huh. Makes sense, Sakura-hime.”

“Perceptive as always, Sakura-hime.”

“Maybe a disabled child? The special needs seminar?” Haruto strokes his chin. He never had a beard, but it’s a habit nonetheless. 

“Well, in any case, they’re a high profile target, so we must do our best in protecting them.” Yuta dutifully mumbles. 

“Ugh. I’m not good with kids at all. Like I don’t understand how I passed that child care module.” Haruki groans. “This is going to be so awkward.” A few other men grunt in agreement, sprawled out in various places on the cool, tiled floor. 

“Then learn.” Sakura takes a towel and shampoo from her locker. “I call first dibs.”

The rest of them moan. Some are asleep. Sakura always gets to shower first. She’s alpha, and no one dares to challenge it. 

**

A few weeks ago, Asami-sama returned from China, with a boy and another man in tow. The man is a bodyguard from the bratva, if rumors are true. The personal bodyguard of the boy. 

Saito Minato straps on his holster, and folds his street clothes into his locker. Kirishima wanted them thirteen bodyguards left to meet their client. It’s the moment of truth, after months of grueling tests. Either they get the job, or they don’t. 

Quite frankly, the number of confidentiality agreements the thirteen of them had to sign was alarming, to say the least, but it’s not as if they had a choice. They’ve already spent months becoming bodyguards of Asami-sama’s calibre. 

And nobody wanted to know what it would be like to refuse Asami-sama something. 

But Saito Minato was nothing but a common boy who grew to be a common man. His face is just one you forget, melting into the crowd. His presence is neither loud or quiet, but average. He knows to keep his head down, and when it would be noticeable if he doesn’t speak up. If his life were a novel, he would be one of those forgotten characters like Passerby C or Extra B, someone who fades in the background and is so unnecessary to the plot that the author doesn’t even deign to describe or name him. 

Sakura and Haruki, Yuta and Haruto- they will be side characters, if anything. They have ambition, but not too much. They work hard, know how to talk to people, and care about others. They’re the kind of people who will fight for their dreams, who will do anything to help their friends. They’re good, loyal, kind people.

Saito nods to the other bodyguards, heading to the practice mat. Kirishima is standing in the middle, watching them all with an impassive eye. Some others, like Ouga and Taiga, are already stretching. 

Once, all thirteen of them are in the dojo, Kirishima orders a lineup. 

“Today will be the day your potential client will choose you. As you can deduce, this last test is not a test of combat, strength, or endurance, but rather of compatibility.”

Saito swallows. Of all things, a personality test? A mesh to see who gets along best with their client? He knows who will lose. It won’t be a surprise if the client doesn’t choose him, or even doesn’t get his name. 

“All of you have sparred with Suoh and passed. You have proven adequate strength and endurance in your assessments and stimulations. Today, your potential client will choose his rotation based on your qualities as people, not as mere protectors.” Kirishima continues. 

Him. A boy, probably special needs if locker room talk is to go by. Wasn’t there a boy who was kidnapped by Baishe a few months ago? And another boy kidnapped by the bratva? 

At least, that’s the little information he could gather by listening in. Sometimes, it’s good that nobody spares him a second glance. 

Kirishima clears his throat. Saito straightens again. Apologies. 

“This is confidential information. None of what I say further shall leave the room. Am I clear?”

A reply of “Yes, Kirishima-sama!”s fill the dojo. The room has high ceilings, so the respectful shouts echo. 

A pause. The secretary pushes up his glasses. Kirishima seems to be collecting himself. It must be difficult, being the personal secretary to the great Asami Ryuichi. 

What information would be protected tighter than the confidentiality agreements?

“I am telling you this in preparation for meeting your client. Remember to hold your judgment. This client is special, and if he chooses you, I expect you to serve and protect him with your life.”

Saito nods along with the line of serious-faced peers. His fellow recruits have already speculated that the client was special. 

“His name is Takaba Akihito. I tell you this in confidence: he is around a year old.”

What? It’s an actual babysitting job? As quickly as he can, he reverts his face back into a mask of serenity. By the twitch of Kirishima’s eyebrows, he and a few other colleagues have not fixed their shocked expressions quickly enough. Saito had expected people recruited from the army, marines, and special forces to have better poker faces as well. 

“He will have the appearance of an older teen, but treat him appropriately for his emotional development. If anything dangerous happens during this last exam, Asami-sama or Suzuki-san will step in. You are not to interfere. Do not be alarmed by the unusual, or the unexpected.”

Footsteps approach the dojo, purposefully loud. 

“Most importantly, do not judge. Relax, men and women.”

They all salute in synchrony. Haruto jokingly imitates a karate chop to Yuta, who counters with his own. Haruto and Yuta are in their own orbit. The rest of them break formation. Sakura has her thinking face on. 

The door opens. In steps Asami Ryuichi, carrying a blond in a hip carry. The boy is wrapped tight in a blanket. 

An older, weary Japanese man follows. Likely Suzuki. Suzuki has an empty baby bottle in one hand. 

“Asami.” Kirishima nods discreetly to Suzuki. 

“Kirishima.” Asami greets back. Then the man turns to the boy. “Okay, Aki-chan. This is your time to have fun. I’ll be here until ten, but take as much time as you want.”

When Asami sets the boy down, the businessman hands the sitting boy a stuffed bear. So that’s what they warned Saito about to not judge. 

He won’t judge. He’s seen weirder. 

“Is this because you feel bad that you can’t take me home?” The words are clear, but childish. Clearly far more intelligent than a normal toddler, and more perceptive as well. The voice is small and soft, enough that a wind will erase the sound. It’s like the rolling of waves, gentle and easy to wash away. If you don’t concentrate, it will fall away into the background. You don’t notice it.

It’s certainly not the shrieking of normal toddlers. 

Suzuki, the guard, looks tired and worn. How long has he been on the job? Will this job take so much of their lives, as well? “Aki-chan, I’m really sorry. But nobody can take you home.”

What are they talking about? They can’t take Akihito home, or they don’t want to take him home?

The news is clearly heartbreaking for the boy, even though his face is turned away from the line of guards. Saito tries to meld into the background, to give them as much of a veneer of privacy as he can. Hard news is always difficult to deliver to children.

“But-but why?”

“We just can’t, Aki-chan. Nobody can take you back up there. But just because we can’t take you back up there doesn’t mean it’s not possible!” Suzuki responds. 

Saito doesn’t hear anything else.

Back up there? What? What does that mean? Somehow, Saito gets the feeling that they’re not talking about a supposed hometown in the mountains.

At Haruto and Yuta’s expressions, he gets that they have the same feeling. Something is going on.

“-burn the dojo down, though, buddy.” 

Why will the dojo be at risk of burning down? Nothing is adding up. But Kirishima said to not be alarmed by the unexpected or unusual. 

Asami leans down to unzip something on the back of the boy’s kitten-themed shirt. Another tally that doesn’t add up. 

“Thank you, daddy.” The boy politely murmurs as he does the same with the bear.

So the boy considers Asami as his guardian. Then that must mean that Suzuki is his current nanny. No wonder the man looks exhausted. 

Asami turns Akihito so that Saito can finally see him. From his angle of the sitting boy, the little guy has braided golden hair, so delicate and wispy it can melt like spun gold in the sunlight. His eyes are big and cerulean, certainly not a color found naturally in someone’s head. It’s almost too vivid of a blue.

Like jewels. 

The boy’s face is round and filling with baby fat, his expression earnest and with trepidation. He’s clutching a polar bear sporting a t-shirt with wing slits, just like the boy. The boy is clearly nervous to meet strangers.

“Go on, Aki-chan.” Asami gently reminds the boy.

Nothing out of the ordinary, Saito. 

“At ease.” The businessman commands the men. The voice has a timbre much like when each of them had to spar Asami last week. All of them lost, obviously. The yakuza boss must have noticed that the men were too focused on the boy, and not acting child-appropriate.

Sharp. As expected, Asami-sama knows how to command a room.

Yamamoto Yuta makes the first move, crouching down so as to not appear so tall. “Aren’t you a handsome little guy? My name is Yamamato Yuta. You can call me Yuta.”

As if Yuta’s introduction is the signal, all of his colleagues follow to crouch down and talk with the shy kid. 

“I’m Haruki, Akihito-chan. It’s nice to meet you.” Haruki sticks out a hand. 

Akihito uncertaintly takes Haruki’s larger hand in his two hands and stares into Haruki’s palm for a few seconds. He pokes a curious finger into the calluses and stares back up at Haruki, head tilted. His big blue eyes are wide. It feels like the boy can stare into souls.

“Are you wondering why my skin is hard?”

Akihito nods, exaggeratedly large. Saito can’t help but compare the image to a bobblehead. The man smiles, as do a few of his colleagues.

“It’s because I use some tools a lot and then the friction makes calluses. That way, I can use the tools easier.” Haruki patiently explains. No way is he going to tell Akihito that the tool is a gun.

“Daddy has the same.” Akihito quietly replies, pinching at a callus on Haruki’s palm. “And Suzu has the same on his hands. Do you all use the same tools?”

“You’re smart, Aki-chan!” Haruto praises. Akihito beams in response. “I’m Haruto.”

“Hey, Aki-chan. I’m Sakura. I have the same calluses, too! Do you want to see mine?”

Akihito makes grabby hands at Sakura. Sakura indulgently smiles, and Akihito grabs Sakura’s proffered hands. “Wow! It really is the same!”

Examination over, Akihito doesn’t know what to do with the hands, but he doesn’t want to let go. So he just flaps them.

Sakura, Haruki, and a few others laugh. Aki-chan is really cute. He can’t hide anything. He’s perceptive, but not old enough to learn how to lie yet. He’s a smart kid. He’ll keep whoever he chooses on their toes. 

“Can I have my hand back, Aki-chan?” Haruki inquires. 

Akihito shakes his head. “Uh-uh. I’m collecting them.”

Suzuki pats the blond’s hair. “Aki-chan, I think maybe your new friends want their hands back.”

Akihito pouts but lets go. He bends his knees and stands up to hug Suzu. “Suzu, you’re my best friend!”

Suzu quirks his lip. The man is tired. “Thank you, Aki-chan. That means a lot to Suzu. You’re going to have lots of new friends, too. Why don’t you meet the rest of them?”

Saito makes his introduction, as does the rest of them. 

And then they start playing tag. From the start, the boy runs for the tallest structure in the oversized dojo. 

The little guy’s sense of balance is frankly unbelievable. The boy perches and runs easily on metal the width of two fingers, climbs atop the structures with a dexterity that goes beyond human. Another piece of the puzzle falls into place.

And then the boy drops down and opens his wings. 

Now, Saito understands why the checks were so stringent. In fact, he’s wondering why the checks were so  _ lenient _ . 

He’s not the only one feeling this way. In a hush, every one of his peers pause, then professionally resume playing. Suoh has trained them to be better than this. There should be no gawking at all.

Maa, maa. It’s going to be a long play date, Saito knows for sure. 


	5. I'm Busy!

“Stop interrupting me! I’m busy!” Akihito glares back at Haruto, feet planted in the sand, torso, and arms flying everywhere. 

“Okay, Aki-chan.” Haruto smiles. “What are you doing?”

Akihito shoots him with an aggrieved expression. Duh. What else can he be? “I’m an inflatable man. I’m  _ very busy _ here.”

“Yes, yes.” Yuta placates. 

To his left, Akihito hears FeiLong muffle his laughter. “Mommy, stop laughing! I’m doing serious business!”

Mommy just laughs harder. 


	6. Bedtime

FeiLong crosses his arms, hair gracefully astray. “It’s already fifteen minutes past your bedtime, little boy. Come to bed, or-”

“I’m not tired!” Akihito crosses his arms, mimicking FeiLong. FeiLong’s frown deepens. 

FeiLong takes in a deep breath. “You will come to bed, one way or another. Do you want to do it the easy way or the hard way?”

“No!” Akihito defiantly stomps his feet. Asami looks on, amused. 

Yoh glances up from his computer. “You can let him stay. He’s going to fall asleep soon anyway.” All of a sudden, FeiLong’s darkening expression clears up. 

“No I won’t! I’m  _ not tired _ !” Akihito pouts harder. Yoh is so mean!

“Oh ho? Then stay up with us all you want, Aki-chan.” FeiLong elegantly lounges on the couch. “Come. You can be a part of the big boy club.” Mommy pats his thigh, and after a brief hesitation, Akihito climbs onto mommy’s lap to rest his head.

“I’m not tired.” Akihito mumbles. What is this attitude switch? Akihito expected a harder fight. Anyway, he is not looking a gift horse in the mouth. Tonight is the night he gets to stay up and know what they do when he’s asleep!

“Yes, yes. You’re not tired. I know.” FeiLong releases his braid and brushes warm fingers through his hair. Akihito closes his eyes to enjoy the sensation. Just to be clear, he does not close his eyes because he’s tired! That’s a lie.

A few seconds later, he tries to open his eyelids, but they’re too heavy, so he just lets them rest. Mnn. It’s comfy and warm here. It’s so easy to fall into the lull-

Akihito falls asleep in under two minutes. 

“Not tired, huh?” Asami whispers, careful not to wake Aki-chan.

“Great advice, Yoh.” FeiLong smirks, self-satisfied. “He’s out like a light.”

“It’s nothing, Fei.” Yoh shares a secretive smile back. 

“Well, at least now he won’t be cranky and out of control. Last time was one time too much.” The Chinese muses. 

“An understatement.” Asami adds. “I never imagined he could become such a little monster.” Last time consisted of a screaming Akihito, many threatened spankings, and mayonnaise spread all over the rug and the boy. It was a nightmare for everyone, to say the least. By the time they finally got Akihito to sleep out of sheer exhaustion if nothing else, half the penthouse was trashed with blue flames eating everything and Asami was late to his cartel meeting. 

It’s a blessing to have Yoh here, tonight. Yoh’s a treasure trove of child wrangling techniques. 

“Now I understand why my parents were so strict with bedtime.” Sakura sighs from the door. The room is silent, for a pause. “I can move him to the bed, Asami-sama.”

Asami flicks his hand, possessiveness welling up. “Don’t bother. I’ll carry him.” Yoh and FeiLong shoot the crime lord equally amused looks. 

Asami wants to savour Akihito’s relaxed, sleeping face for as long as he can. When he lifts the boy up, it is done so gently and softly that there is no sound of shifting cloth. 

In the hold, Akihito curls towards Asami.The tycoon murmurs under his breath. “Daddy’s here, Aki-chan.”


	7. Sand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akihito lands in a cool spiderman/black widow pose! Unfortunately, he lands on the beach and sand gets everywhere. Poor Aki-chan...
> 
> That sand ruined his landing! He must get revenge. Mommy, stop laughing!

Akihito dives to the shorefront and lands, wings out, crouching with one hand on the floor. When Akihito breathes in, he coughs and sputters, sand getting into his throat and eyes. 

He can’t help but cry. Sand is getting everywhere! He rubs his eyes with his fingers, but it just hurts more. 

“Aki-chan, stop touching your face!” Kirishima hovers, water bottle hovering over Akihito’s bowing shoulders. “Gargle.”

“That landing was impressive, Aki-chan.” Yoh compliments, rubbing Akihito’s heaving back. “I can tell you worked hard on learning how to fly.”

Akihito just continues to cry. 

“You’ll feel better in a bit, Aki-chan.” Asami soothes from his other side. “We’re going to rinse your eyes with some water now.” 

The blond nods, his hair shaking some sand off with the movement.

“Tilt your head back, baby. Try to keep your eyes open.”

Some distance away, Tao and FeiLong try and fail to muffle their snickers. Akihito would glower if he wasn’t so busy.


	8. Asexual Scandal

“Daddy! Fucky fucky?” Akihito asks, head tilting. “Please?”

FeiLong stills and glares in disbelief. “You’re fucking him? What the hell, Asami!”

Asami considers the boy, ignoring mommy. “Are you horny or do you have to pee?”

Akihito thinks deeply for two seconds, eyebrows furrowing. “Pee!” He races to the bathroom.

“Answer the question, Asami.”

“I’m taking care of him.”

FeiLong stands and lounges at Asami, teeth snarling, when Yoh blocks Fei. 

Yoh gazes into Asami’s eyes. “Penile penetration or digital?”

Asami, unconcerned, crosses his ankles. Usually he wouldn’t stand for people questioning him, but when it comes to Akihito, he finds that nothing is off the table. “Digital.”

Yoh tilts his head. “Only when checking his strings?”

“Yes.”

FeiLong collapses into the armchair. “You should have started with that.”

“Hm.” The businessman answers, noncommittal. “He started asking for me to scratch itches inside.”

FeiLong’s amused. “Scratch itches.”

“Yes.” Asami smirks. 

“And I suppose it’s the kind of itch that gets more itchy when scratched?”

“Mn.”

Yoh sighs. “Tell me that him asking for you to fingerfuck him is not as often an occurrence as it feels.”

“Mn. He’s horny at quite the most surprising times, the little kitten. During full moons, when he’s been holding in his pee, when he’s bored, when his levels of estrogen and testosterone rise-”

“But never directed to people.” FeiLong presumes.

“No, never to people.” Asami confirms. 

“He liked to kiss me on the mouth when he was hungry for food.” Yoh corroborates.

FeiLong snickers, the tension shaking off the man’s shoulders. “He runs like a starved creature when he spots a nipple.”

“Indeed.” Asami huffs a laugh. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sex, to Akihito, is not sexual. Just like how babies masturbate not because they want sex but because it feels good, Akihito finds sex to be comforting. To him, sex or his body getting horny feels good. Much like eating, or sleeping, or watching tv, or cuddling. 
> 
> He's not sexually attracted to anybody or anything, and it's about time that one of the thick-brained adults realizes it.


End file.
